Photo by David Leong.
Riverchase Elementary School custodian Priscilla Bolar, known to students as “Mama Cilla"
Priscilla Bolar, known to students as “Mama Cilla,” shares a joyful moment with children at Riverchase Elementary School, where she has spent more than two decades encouraging and caring for students beyond her custodial duties.
The first thing you notice walking the halls of Riverchase Elementary School with Priscilla Bolar isn’t the shine on the floors.
It’s the children.
They come from every direction — backpacks bouncing, shoes squeaking, faces lighting up.
“Mama Cilla!” one calls.
“I love you!” says another, wrapping her in a hug before heading to class.
Bolar pauses and greets each child by name, smoothing a collar, offering encouragement. In those brief moments, it becomes clear: her job title may be custodian, but her role is something much bigger.
“I started working at this school in 2004, so I’ve been here 22 years,” Bolar said, smiling with tears in her eyes, as she looks ahead to her retirement on July 1. “I came here because I wanted a better job, but also because I love kids and I love people.”
For more than two decades, Bolar has been a steady presence — arriving at 6:30 each morning, working until mid-afternoon, spending 21 of those years in the kindergarten and first grade areas before moving to the fifth grade area. She has watched children grow from tiny 5-year-olds into high school graduates who return to visit.
“I’ve seen the kids grow, and it’s amazing to see them come back after middle and high school,” she said.
Her duties extend far beyond sweeping and sanitizing. She escorts children to the nurse, supports teachers in classrooms, comforts tearful students and notices the quiet ones. These qualities led Bolar to be named Riverchase Elementary’s employee of the year in 2023.
“Some kids come in sad, some with their heads down, and I try to lift their spirits,” Bolar said. “aI encourage them, comfort them. Sometimes I help them with little things like their hair or clothing.”
Bolar, who has eight grandchildren of her own, is affectionately called “Mama Cilla” by both students and staff — a nickname that reflects the way she mothers and nurtures everyone around her.
Riverchase teacher Brennan Bernard says Bolar’s presence made a lasting difference in her own career.
“Ms. Bolar helped me so much through my first year of teaching,” Bernard said. “Ever since then, she is the first person that I go to when I need to talk or need a word of encouragement, and the first person I go to when I need something uplifting to come my way.”
That steady encouragement reflects the heart of Bolar’s work.
“The kids. Always the kids,” she said when asked her favorite part of the job. “Making them happy, seeing them smile and knowing I make a difference in their lives. You have to love children to work in a school successfully.”
Her compassion is rooted in a memory from her own childhood.
“I used to walk with my head down because I didn’t like myself,” Bolar said. “One teacher stopped me and said, ‘Hold your head up, smile. You have a beautiful smile.’ That changed me.”
Photo by David Leong.
Simmons Middle School custodian Jerome Burkes
Simmons Middle School custodian Jerome Burkes poses for a photo with students outside the school, where he averages 10,000 to 12,000 steps a day.
Now, when she sees a student walking the same way, she remembers.
“I remind them they are beautiful. I help them feel confident.”
About 10 years ago, Bolar faced a severe health scare while at school — a stroke that required months of rehabilitation. Fortunately, members of her Riverchase Elementary school family, custodian Michael Banks and Principal Alice Turney among others, were there to assist her in this crisis and help her through her long recovery.
“I had to learn everything over again, from basic skills to daily routines,” she said. “It was tough. But the support from the teachers, administrators and students kept me motivated to come back.”
A short four months later, Bolar returned to the hallways of Riverchase Elementary.
“I know now that God led me here for a reason,” she said. “Some kids and teachers needed me, and I’m grateful I could return.”
Across town at Simmons Middle School, Jerome Burkes carries that same steady presence — though his story stretches back much further.
Burkes, 76, has worked at Simmons for 20 years. Officially, he oversees the first floor and helps lead a team of eight custodians. Unofficially, he is a mentor, counselor and constant in a building he affectionately calls “an old lady.”
“For an old school, we hold up pretty good,” Burkes said with a smile. “It’s a great feeling when you come into Simmons and people say, ‘How come our school doesn’t look like this?’”
He averages between 10,000 and 12,000 steps a day, moving from hallways to the gym to the front office, noticing what others overlook and stepping in when needed. Still, he somehow finds the energy to run, a hobby that recently led him to complete his 51st Vulcan Run.
“I have logged in way over 250,000 miles running on this old body,” Burkes said with a chuckle.
Simmons student Gregory Shaw summed it up simply: “Mr. Burkes is always looking out for everyone and helping, inside and outside the classroom.”
Like Bolar, Burkes believes the heart of the job isn’t just maintenance — it’s mentorship.
“I try to show them as much love as I can,” he said. “A lot of these kids come from broken homes. They need someone to love them.”
His mentorship extends to the adults at Simmons Middle School. Administrative assistant Tonya Jones said Burkes uplifts everyone around him and makes a real difference every day.
When Burkes hears students speaking harshly to one another, he doesn’t ignore it.
“If that was your sister or your mother, you don’t call her that,” he tells them. He encourages the young ladies to advocate for themselves. “You are a queen,” he tells them. “You want to be treated like a queen.”
Burkes’ own life has been shaped by resilience and the desire to see Birmingham embrace cultural unity. He grew up in Birmingham during the civil rights movement and participated as a teenager in the Children’s March, even receiving the Foot Soldiers Award from the NAACP in 2013. He recalls hearing Martin Luther King Jr. speak and witnessing firsthand the tension and transformation of that era.
“I witnessed all of that,” Burkes said quietly. “And you try to plant seeds wherever you go.”
Because of those experiences, Burkes strives to create understanding of cultural differences and celebrate diversity.
“I want to bring kids together, parents together,” he said, and “nurture them the best way I can.”
He instills those values in his own family, as well. He and his wife of nearly 40 years blended their households, becoming the “black version of the Brady Bunch, without the maid or the dog” said Burkes with his wide smile. They raised their children together and now celebrate grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
While Bolar prepares to retire this summer, Burkes has no such plans. But Mekalue Thompson, a custodian supervisor for the Hoover Board of Education, said both deserve recognition for their long history of solid service.
“The entire custodial staff works extremely hard to provide a clean and safe learning environment for our students,” Thompson said.
In schools across the district, custodians are often the first to arrive and the last to leave. They keep hallways safe and classrooms ready — but they also steady nerves, dry tears and lift chins.
“It’s not just cleaning,” Bolar said. “You have to love people and understand them. You’re often the first line of support for the kids.”
“When you interact with the principals, the custodians, the kids — it becomes your family,” Burkes added. “We have so much love here and we take care of each other.”
As Bolar prepares to say goodbye to Riverchase Elementary, she hopes her legacy will endure.
“I’ve danced, sung, played sports and shared joy with the kids,” she said as she showed a video of her jump roping with a group of students. “I hope they remember that someone cared for them deeply.”
In the hallways she’s tended for 22 years, that legacy already echoes in hugs between classes, in encouragement behind classroom doors and in children — and teachers — who know they are seen.
